Invalid Intentions
by Devilzzz
Summary: Completed!On verge of a lonely summer, Ginny tries to floo to her boyfriend's house. Instead, she ends up in the Malfoy Manor... Featuring Pervert!Draco, CuteCrazy!Ginny and Suspicious!LuciusMalfoy.
1. Floo Gone Wrong

****

Invalid Intentions

Ginny Weasley was trying to Floo.

It wasn't unusual for a sixteen-year-old girl to be growing up. Not at all. It wasn't unusual if she got a bit too attached to her gorgeous boyfriend, Dean Thomas. It wasn't unusual that she ached for him physically and emotionally during the summer.

It was unusual, however, that she wanted to wait until three in the morning, go inside her fireplace, and use some dust to get to his house. 

Ginny Weasley was a very, very, desperate girl at the moment. Stricken by her loneliness at the Burrow, without even Hermione's usual visiting (her family and her had taken a trip) to console her, she wanted someone to talk to, someone to be with, just for one small little night.

After all, there were was one and a half months left in the summer, and she needn't find out how to have fun with her brother, Ron. The idea seemed very unappealing. So one night or early morning as you would call it, Ginny packed half of her clothes, makeup, necessities, blankets and pillows into one small duffel bag, and managed to heave it across her shoulder as she tiptoed down the stairs, grumbling a bit as her steps made creaks. Luckily, nobody seemed to notice as she tucked the bag under her arm and picked up the pot of floo powder, and wavered it into her palm as she stepped into the fire. Unable to restrain her coughs, she choked for a bit as the flames licked at her sides. She felt dizzy, heated, and strangely exhilarated. Nervousness began to pour into her as she held the floo powder above her head, and tripped over a bit, one of her shoes flying out into the living room.

Scowling herself, she set the floo power above her head and sprayed it, coughing, "Thomas -cough- Resi-cough-dence!"

The fire began to twist around her as her body shook in relief. She tucked her elbows in, allowing the heated pillars to surround her. Swirls of black and white turned around her, and she felt her bare foot shaking in fright of the flames, and her occupied foot in a shoe trying to comfort it. It was at last that she toppled over, her clothes in black soot, ashen, still coughing, that she fell into the floor from a fireplace.

She looked up, expecting to see a living room, maybe Dean's mother, or perhaps Dean himself.

What she had not expected to see was Draco Malfoy,(looking exceedingly handsome as he always did; wearing a black bathrobe, and looking as if he had just taken a shower, his silver-blonde locks wet and deranged over his forehead) who was sitting in an armchair, his eyes peering over the words of a book. Her coughing urged him to confusedly look over to his right, and the book immediately dropped out of his hands. It rolled off in the carpet. He stood up, gaping at her in silence, glancing at the ashes, then at her noticeable flaming hair before his eyes widened in realization of her true identity. Then, he cleared his throat, still gazing at her intently with a frown and furrowed eyebrows.

"God damnit Weasley, what the hell are you doing here at this time, and where the hell is your other shoe?"

***

It's ten minutes until midnight and I am crazy. Enough of an excuse for writing this fic.


	2. The Mysterious Duffel Bag

****

Invalid Intentions

Draco Malfoy had been trying to read. 

The summer assignment that was due at the end was quite a hassle. He needn't wait until the end to dwindle on homework. He wanted to do it beforehand, and have the rest of his time to dwell on other things. Other, important things. Except, he had no other important things. Oh hell, he scoffed to himself. I just want to sleep all summer.

So that night, he settled into the warmth of his usual armchair, picking up the thick book and forcing himself to drown into the words.

__

'This sucks' kept frequently going through his mind, but he managed to block this thoughts out. The progress of reading a book about famous witches that he could care less about was turning dull and dead-prone. He felt himself almost doze off, his eyes stuck on the same sentence it had been for quite a while.

Come on, come on, his mind snapped at him. Stay awake. He blinked his eyes, sighing exasperatedly. 

He widened his eyes to keep them from closing, and with a look of concentration and determination, his eyes began to wander some of the words. This is interesting, he tried to convince himself, even though all he wanted to do with the book right then was slit his throat with the spine of it, if it was possible.

Then something happened that made him pay attention to his surroundings. A sound of splatter, something dripping reached his eardrums - he ignored it. He heard several creaks at once. He ignored it. 

He heard a shriek of resepetion. He ignored it, dismissing it as something from their basement. Perhaps one of the ghosts, or the house-elves. He absorbed himself in the book. 

He heard something crumble out from his fireplace. He ignored it for moments.

He heard a girl cough. He turned to his right, and found the book he was reading had fallen out of his hands. Numbing surprise and startleness had mingled inside him. It was a small, thin girl, about the age of fourteen, fifteen or sixteen. She was covered in a mass of soot and ashes, coughing as if she would throw up any moment. She looked up and her coughing turned into a gasp.

Draco collected himself, urging a faint smirk into his lips, almost invisible but still present, and shoved away a strand of his wet locks of silver-blonde, and looked down in recgonization.

It was Ginny Weasley. With a duffel bag that hung over her neck.

And only one shoe.

"God damnit, Weasley, what the hell are you doing here at this time, and where the hell is your other shoe?"

***

It was a peculiar question to Ginny until she looked down and saw that her bare foot was stained with both blood and ashes. She whimpered, struggling to stand up. Draco looked at her, slightly more than miffed.

"I must've gotten off the wrong fireplace!" she said, groaning. 

"Weasley, you idiot! Why would you try to use floo powder at this hour?" Draco spat at her statistically.

"None of your business," Ginny quickly answered. "Will you at least help me up, you bastard?"

"That's a polite way to ask, what's the magic word?" Draco drawled sarcastically.

Ginny opened her mouth to speak - but then Draco jerked his head to his left, and that's when she heard it - footsteps.

"Draco?" a voice barked from the top of the stairs, which was proceeding down.

"Oh God," Draco moaned in agony, glancing at Ginny and back to the stairs, then grabbing hold of her arm tightly.

"What the hell - mmmfg!" Ginny's mouth was concealed by Draco's hand. The sudden sensation of his hot palm made her grimace. He motioned her to go forward, and she did, her duffel bag falling out of her grasp and onto the floor. She looked at it, but Draco pushed her aside into a door, in which she smashed into and fell inside the room with a large thump, in which she was almost accurately sure that she had broken her ribs.

Lucius Malfoy came slowly down the stairs, smiling grimly at the duffel bag.

*** 

A/N: This fic is posted on portkey.org too, so if ff.net goes haywire (ah, how often it happens), it's under the pen name Devilzzz.


	3. Damning Discovery

****

Invalid Intentions

"Malfoy, _get off_ of me!" Ginny exclaimed, her breath growing heavy as she struggled to breathe. As she had fallen into the darkness, she hit the floor with a thump in the back of the head, and Draco had crawled on top of her in the tiny space that they had.

"Shut the hell up, Weasley - my father thinks someone is here!" he awkwardly position his head on her chest, one eardrum hearing her heartbeat through her sweater and the other eardrum hearing any noises his father made from the other room. Ginny squirmed underneath him, feeling his wet, cold body against hers, angled in a very uncomfortable height. She was pretty sure it was his hair that was tickling her lips. When there was only silence to occupy the manor, he brushed himself off of her, giving her a look of repulsion. 

"Hey," Ginny interrupted before he could say anything. "You climbed _onto_ _me_!"

"And you came into _my_ manor," Draco reminded her coldly. She could not see his expression on his face; she wasn't even sure he was there anymore.

"Look! It was a mistake," Ginny pleaded desperately, ringlets of red falling over her face and brushing against her nose. She impatiently pushed them away, a lump in her throat.

Oh my God, don't cry in front of a Malfoy, Ginny! Not now! she told herself, trying to gulp down the burning sensation in her neck. "Can you just get me home? And get me another shoe?"

***

"Alright, ready, Weasley?" Draco asked her bitterly, with a flash of hesitance in his eyes. He pulled his bathrobe more tightly against himself.

She nodded.

"Good. Don't ever tell anyone I helped you," he told her firmly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I won't." Her feet heated by the flames that were at her sides, she raised her head high, kept her elbows tucked in as usual, and sprinkled the floo powder over her head.

"The Burrow!" she cried aloud. She expected the sudden rush of adrenaline as she transported herself into her home once more. She expected the flames twisting itself around her body in several waves until she dissolved from his fireplace. She expected all of this and much more.

And yet, nothing happened.

"Weasley, do it properly! And quick. We don't know when my father's getting back!" Draco complained.

"I did do it properly!" she insisted, but tried again. Nothing happened.

"Oh God, don't tell me the Floo network's failing now! Not now!" Draco groaned. "Get out of the fire, Weasley."

"What're you going to do?" She cautiously withdrew from the fireplace, stepping into the warmth of the carpet.

"Don't you know what this MEANS, Weasley? You're stuck!" 

"Stuck?" she repeated blankly. "But that's not possible - where will I go?"

"It's obvious," Draco said stiffly. "My owl is in possession of my father. Unless I give him a valid reason, you can't contact your family. You can't Apparate until you've past the test. And hell if I am going to go through trouble to get a portkey."

"What - are - you - saying?" Ginny asking, grinding her teeth against each other.

"I am saying," he said in a tone of finality and unease, "That you will have to spend the night - here."

***

Lucius Malfoy peered in amusement inside the contents of the duffel bag. A snore made him jump lightly. He turned, and saw it was only Narcissa, turning over in her sleep, mumbling to herself. Lucius looked back, rummaging through the bag with excitement - which quickly turned into shock - which quickly turned into - realization as he picked up a flower-imprinted toothbrush, along with a silky nightdress and undergarments.

"_Oh damn_," he cursed in both disbelief and outrage. "My son's gay."

***

LMAO. I had to post that! I feel so - invigorated! I love this fic! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	4. Crossdresser!

****

Invalid Intentions

"Are you crazy?" Ginny shrieked. "I will not - ever, stay in this house!"

"It's not a house, Weasley," Draco responded impatiently. "It's a manor. Bigger than you've ever seen."

She scowled at him furiously. "I don't care if it's larger than your fat ass, I am not going to stay over night here. My parents will freak out."

"Look, the Floo Network won't be working until tomorrow. And my ass is great," Draco protested.

Ginny considered this for a moment. "Turn around," she ordered curtly.

He did so, and Ginny felt an approving smile crawl into her lips, and nodded. "Alright, I'll give you that."

***

"For the last time, I am not dressing in front of you!" Ginny grumbled.

"No other way," he told her, smirking. "If you occupy another room, chances are, the house-elf will find you in the morning."

"Don't look," she retorted snappishly.

"Wouldn't think of it," he crooned, burying his face in his hands. As she began undressing, he peeked through his fingers. 

__

Oh, yes, yes, a drawling voice prompted silently in his mind..._that's it, take it off, slowly...slowl.._

"ACK!" Ginny shrieked, her arms waving failingly. "Someone's coming!"

"QUICK! IN THE CLOSET!" Draco yelled, a look of fear plunging over his face. 

Instead of going into the closet, Ginny threw him a strange look, her arm protectively over her bare chest, and snuck under the bed, her feet vanishing under the bedspread just in time as the door opened, revealing a sullen-looking Lucius Malfoy.

"Draco." His voice was calm, as if he was restraining bitterness. "Draco, I know."

Draco's lips parted in shock. "You do? But father...how-"

"Do not speak," he said calmly, holding up a hand. "I know that you are gay."

"Who-what?" he sputtered in disbelief, looking at his father blankly. "But father...I am not..."

"What is this?" his father suddenly thundered, picking up Ginny's bra from the floor. Draco widened his eyes in horror as he saw it hanging from his father's fingers.

"Do not lie to me!" Lucius Malfoy spat with fury. "You are gay _and_ a cross-dresser?!

"No - Father, I..." he trailed off helplessly. Lucius dropped the undergarment on the floor, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I am leaving," he announced, and with his chin upright, he exited the room, with a slam of the door.

Ginny's laughter filled the room.

"Oh shut up," Draco remarked crossly, kicking the bra underneath the bed.

***

I am crazy! I am crazy! Everybody! I am crazy! I am crazy!...


	5. PILLOW FIIIIIGHT!

Invalid Intentions  
  
"Give me the damn toothpaste!" Draco cried snappishly, holding the tail of the toothpaste with a firm hand. Ginny's eyes narrowed at him, unscrewing the top with the tips of her fingers.  
  
"No," she snarled. "I got it FIRST!"  
  
"YOU DID NOT!" Draco yelled, his face scrunching up in fury. "YOU PROBABLY ALREADY HAVE YOUR OWN TOOTHPASTE!"  
  
"HELL YEAH I DO!" Ginny bellowed back, her hair pouring over her face, strands of auburn tickling the corners of her cheeks. "BUT YOUR TOOTHPASTE IS STRAWBERRY FLAVORED! AND I THINK YOU ARE GAY!"  
  
"I AM NOT GAY!" he bellowed back, spit throwing at the quarters of her face. "MOTHER BOUGHT ME THAT TOOTHPASTE AND IT TASTES GOOD!"  
  
"YOU ALREADY BRUSHED YOUR TEETH!" Ginny argued, her grasp caught on the toothpaste as she put her other hand on her hip, glaring at him furiously.  
  
"HELL YEAH I DID! BUT I DON'T WANT YOU CONTAMINATING IT!" he retorted in a sneering tone, his eyes glittering with satisfaction.  
  
Ginny Weasley had never been so infuriated with anyone in her life. The fact that this gorgeous, but annoying blonde was standing in front of her, arguing over the dibbs of strawberry-flavored-toothpaste seemed immensely surreal. She had pinched herself several times, but at the seventh try, she was fully confirmed that this wasn't a dream - it was a living nightmare.  
  
"Fine," she said coolly, and with a flawless movement, she threw the unscrewed top on the floor, squeezed the body of the toothpaste, and it splattered in a thick, creamy red that spread in a thin line in the front of Draco's pajama front.  
  
"What - the - hell?" he sputtered, his eyes flashing with both surprise and disgust.  
  
Ginny took his toothbrush from the cabinet and slid it over the distance between his pants and shirt, and he felt adrenaline rush through him like a firm grasp of air as she placed the toothbrush at the very corner of the sink, full with toothpaste from his body.  
  
"There you go," she said jovially. "Finish up, and I'll wait in your bedroom." Winking classicly, she turned around, and shut the door with a snap behind her.  
  
"Miserable cute little brat," Draco murmured.  
  
***  
  
"Weasley?"  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"Are you awake?" He turned his head so that it motioned toward her, his eyes were tightly closed shut as he rolled over to his side, his chest heaving with both exasperation and tiredness. But he couldn't be able to sleep when a girl was in his bed. A particulary cute girl, who had possibly the most freckles sprinkled across her cheeks and nose than anybody in the whole world. Freckles made him squirm uncomfortably. His eyes fluttered open.  
  
Her eyes met his, and she uplifted her face expression to a frowning scowl. "No, Malfoy, I am still asleep," she answered, her voice dripping in sarcasm. She tugged at her nightgown hem,having difficulty loosening it, and wincing. "Damn it, this is so tight," Ginny complained, wrinkling her nose in an odd fashion.  
  
"I'll help you get it off," Draco offered in a suggestive, hopeful voice that rang with naivte.  
  
She gave him a small sardonic smile even though a small blush was now visible across the corners of her cheeks, auburn filling her flesh inquiringly. "No thank you," she replied curtly, sitting up in her bed. "Nice try though."  
  
He gave her a small pout before turning over to his side, capturing the bedspread and blanket in between his fingers and pulled it forward so that it tugged over a larger portion of his body.  
  
"Malfoy!" Ginny hissed, her breath fanning his neck. He didn't respond quickly - his eyes were begging for sleep, but then after a sigh of annoyance of the fact that Ginny had taken to poking him in the back instead, he turned his head.  
  
"What IS it Weasley?" Draco queried in a quipping voice.  
  
"You're taking more than half of the blanket! I am cold too, you know!" she notified him stubbornly.  
  
"Really? Show me proof," Draco demanded slyly.  
  
"What?" Ginny seemed puzzled at this order.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. This girl couldn't be completely innocent, could she? "Nothing, nothing," he replied in a vague, timid voice.  
  
"You're not getting away that easy! What did you mean?" she demanded, sitting upright on the bed, furrowing her eyebrows at him suspiciously. "Come on Malfoy."  
  
"If you can't figure it out yourself, I am not going to tell you," he protested, snuggling into the warmth of his pillows. It was then that an audible smacking sound was heard, whereas Ginny had hit Draco firmly over the head with a pillow.  
  
"OUCH!" he cried aloud, grasping his head in agony as he turned around, glancing at Ginny furiously. Even looking at her made him infuriated. "What'd you do THAT for?"  
  
She merely smirked, a well-respected trademark of the Malfoy's.  
  
"Okay, Weasley...you asked for it!"  
  
With a squeal she backed away as he reached for his pillow, a dangerous gleam visible in his eyes.  
  
***  
  
Many feathers and pillow covers lay about them, mingled into each other. Ginny frowned, and looked over at Draco.  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
"Hmmm?" he whispered, his breath making the collar of his shirt hover for several moments in the air.  
  
"Are you awake?"  
  
He turned to her, anticipation glowering in his pupils. "Again?" He clutched at his pillow, ready for aim.  
  
She nodded. "I think so."  
  
*** 


	6. UhOh Caughtie being Naughtie

Invalid Intentions  
  
Ginny Weasley opened her eyes to the beaming sunlight as she gave a soft sigh that escaped from her lips, fresh and crisp. A new day, she thought to herself proudly. I made it through another day of the summer. Finally. But as she turned over, something strange met her eyes. Several feathers were strewn around the bedspread, the pillow patterns seemed oddly distraught, and her adrenaline was rushing along with her thumping heart and her increasing pace of breath.  
  
Her eyes widened, but she needn't the sound of the door swinging open, revealing a shirtless Draco coming in rinsing his hair of water that dribbled over his eyebrows and trickled into his bare chest to know what had happened just yesterday night.  
  
***  
  
"Well, I've located her," Mr. Weasley announced nervously the next afternoon. All Weasleys stopped eating, their forks sliding aimlessly, fluttering downwards towards their plates, clinking every so often against the acute designs on the corners.  
  
"Where?" Ron said at once, hope glimmering in his eyes, his fists clenched, prespiration running down the sides of his face from his sweat-stained hair that hung around a messy mass of red.  
  
"Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked him, staring at him pointedly with a weary look that clearly stated, 'why didn't you tell me before?, I am your wife, after all. Doesn't this entitle to some acknowledging privledges?'  
  
"Evidently," Mr. Weasley started to say after several clear of throats. "She was located around -- the Malfoy Manor."  
  
Ron gasped, his mouth hanging open. "Malfoy Manor?" he echoed. "I SHOULD'VE KNOWN!" he exclaimed frantically, thumping his fist against the table, absolutely infuriated, his cheeks flushed with red.  
  
"Listen, Ron, don't do anything drastic until I--" Mr. Weasley told him warningly, but Ron had already rose from the table, pushing his hair back so far that it almost fell over in mid-swing, and ran upstairs, with no other word besides the curses and threats murmured under his breath.  
  
*** "Malfoy," Ginny announced blankly. "What - what..." she rubbed her eyes vigirously, placing them into vision. "Oh..." she whispered in realization.  
  
"Time to leave, brat," Draco prompted in an expressionless voice. "I think the Floo Network is working now."  
  
"It is?" she said tenatively, brushing a strand of her hair that was tickling her nose profusely. "Are you sure? Did you check?"  
  
"Just go, will you?" he asked tiredly. "And take your duffel bag. And fix my bed," he ordered after an afterthought, eyeing the feathers strewn, tainting the bedspread.  
  
Ginny proceeded to answer the last statement with a visible finger of her hand (which clearly emphasized that she would do no such thing) and he quickly left with a growl of frustration, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Packing was a slow process. It seemed every leftover clothing didn't want to be found, and Ginny didn't want to find them. Even just spending the night here, it felt irritating to move from one place to another. The portion of her romantic, summer getaway was ruined. It was supposed to be Dean she was supposed to be flirting with, Dean who she was supposed to have an unexpected burst of urge to have a pillow fight with, Dean who she should undress in front of in a teasing manner.  
  
Although she had never done those things with Dean.  
  
And the peculiar thing was, she had managed, somehow, miraciously, done them with her worst enemy.  
  
Ginny knew it was one of those 'great' moments where she plopped into her bed and would've said aloud, "Life is weird," or something uncanilly good- spirited similar to this. However, as she tried to plop down on the bed, she found the bed springs to push her backwards into the floor.  
  
"You damn, fucked-up bed!" she exclaimed in fury as she sat up, her upper- arms aching at the fall.  
  
The door swung open. Draco was now fully clothed, a sardonic smirk plastered to his face. "Fell, Weasley?" he asked mockingly.  
  
"Shut up," she grumbled, struggling to get up. In the last moment, in slow- motion fashion, Draco accidently slipped over Ginny's remains on the floor (which consisted of toothbrush and a hairbrush) and fell as well, crying aloud as his head hit against her knee. He was acutely embarrassed when she started laughing hysterically.  
  
"Help me up," he demanded, still facedown in her lap. And although her her lap was a warm, inviting place, her throat was restrained with so much laughter that her head was tipped back as she grasped his upper-arms, their chests brushing together, a sneer crawling at his lips, their eyes locking, fixating on each other.  
  
They were quite in a perdiciment, when, that Ron Weasley apparated into the room.  
  
***  
  
I realize many people place extra security against Apparation on the Malfoy Manor, but I am going to decline it this time, because this is too much fun. 


	7. And Happily Ever Fatter

Invalid Intentions  
  
Shock dissolved into her tongue and begged for saliva. She pulled the strung hair, shunting it aside behind her earlobes. "Hello, Ron," she said nervously, pushing Draco off her in a sudden, swift movement.  
  
Ron glared at her, his once aghast expression modifying into a strength of disapproval. "Ginny," he said, his voice dropping within every word, carefully, as if to inspect if this was really her.  
  
The shock was unbeliavable, spreading throughout the room like a disease that needn't be cured. Ginny sat motionless in disbelief, sure that this was not happening, and even though it was, she could care less. Draco sat cross-legged beside her, his eyebrows raised. The silence was incredible in it's depths -- no one spoke for several minutes, and no one even dared to move.  
  
"Ginny," Ron said again, her name rolling off his tongue, as if to experiment if he could still talk and his mouth would still follow in it's usual, lurid movement.  
  
Before she could respond, before Draco raised his head and gave a smirk that begged for an inappropriate comment, Lucius Malfoy charged into the room.  
  
***  
  
"AHA!!!" Lucius exclaimed, embellishing the word in a charge of a screech as he pointed his finger at the . "I knew it! THREESOME!"  
  
"Ewww--like gross," Ginny murmured. She found herself punching Draco uncounsciously. "You're father's an old senile little fuc--"  
  
She caught Ron's threatening eyes and stammered, "Fua--father."  
  
"Father, we're in the middle of an evil-floo-powder-crisis. Would you please leave so we may fix this and I am not a cross-dresser nor am I gay."  
  
His father's lips parted in a curling gape, before he shrugged nonchantly. "Whatever."  
  
And with that, he charged out of the room with a small slam of the door.  
  
Draco grinned at the two Weasleys that gazed at him in bewilderment, then clicked his tongue smugly. "Works---every---single---time."  
  
***  
  
"OUCH!" Draco yelled as Ron smacked him harshly with the pillow, feathers strewing out from the gapes.  
  
"You will not touch her---" Ron smacked him again. "EVER. EVER. AGAIN."  
  
"He didn't touch me!" Ginny cried, trying to ruin this fight. "I touched him, instead!"  
  
Both boys stopped in mid-freeze, the pillow over Ron's head. Draco blinked.  
  
"--Err. Continue," Ginny said, and they did ensue, in a most frightening manner.  
  
Ginny sighed, and settled down at the corner of the nearest bed, feeling this would last for more than five hundred million years.  
  
***  
  
Five hundred million years later, Ginny was but a helpless, fragile freckled being as she was pushed downstairs by the prodding fingers of her brother, Ron. Draco stopped in the middle of the railway.  
  
"Bye Weasels," he murmured hastily.  
  
Ginny didn't dare turn her head, as she felt that the outraged heat evaporating between her and her brother was enough for one day.  
  
Ron stepped near the fireplace first, when Ginny suddenly remembered.  
  
"Draco!" she called.  
  
Draco turned around from the proceeding of the stairs and raised his eyebrows at her.  
  
"Ummm...I need my duffel bag," she murmured.  
  
"Ah," Draco said, shifting uncomfortably, then, with his hands upturning in a combined circle at his back, he asked shyly, "Maybe you could-- umm...like..."  
  
She gestured for him to hurry his pace.  
  
"...Get it next Thursday, say--ummm...midnight?" He grinned invitingly at her.  
  
Ginny bared a small smile at her lips, and was about to answer when--  
  
"Hem, hem," Ron said failingly behind her. "Overprotective brother here."  
  
Ginny gave him a murderous look before throwing Draco a sweet one. "Maybe."  
  
And with that, she pushed Ron forward toward the fireplace--  
  
"Ginny?" Draco called.  
  
Ginny felt lightheaded and dizzy as she turned around and saw Draco smirking in ease.  
  
"--Next time, use a fucking portkey."  
  
***  
4:37 finished  
in outrageously brilliant manner  
***  
  
Hehe. Off to write a story concerning Lucius/Duffel Bag. Scared? Good. You should be. Love you all, thanks for all the encouragement for this romance/parody/humor. Loved doing it and I am really going to miss updating it so late. *sobs uncontrollably*.  
  
We will always, always have floo powder.  
  
---*whispers mystically*---Forever. 


End file.
